Chapter 16
sixteen
. . .
I hold my breath with the rest of the crowd as Anders releases the AerBall. It sails over the ring of water below, over the groundball goal, and lands in the net. It’s an unbelievable, should-be-impossible move. The Drithm crowd goes wild, all of us jumping to our feet and screaming.
The Wildwood players look around, bewildered.
Our two other attackers are still running in circles and dashing away from Wildwood’s defense.
Their goalie looks around and then up to the scoreboard, where Drithm’s score shifts to thirty-one.
We are now six points ahead with six minutes left on the clock.
Their coach is on the other side of the arena, arguing with the refs, but with the coach’s sound barriers in place, the teams have no idea what just happened. Something similar to pride fills my body as I watch Anders drop back to the ground with Kalli, both of them high-fiving each other.
Trysten is on the other side of the arena, still fighting off the opposing attacker.
The attacker throws the ball, but it misses the net by mere inches just before he’s thrown to the ground by Trysten.
Their groundball is stolen by our other defender, and both balls are placed in the chute, where they appear back on the island with our guardian.
Our AerBall is there too, and the guy guarding the bunker, whose name I think is Mason, only attempts to guard the Wildwood AerBall.
Anders and Kalli make it back to the island using the skywalk just before our other attackers join them.
They all take a moment to celebrate as the clock runs down to one minute.
Anders scoops up our AerBall and turns to face me, pointing the stick in my direction, before his team surrounds him as the final buzzer sounds off.
“Oh my gods,” Ciara cackles from beside me. “Did he just dedicate his win to you?” She keels over, laughing as if it’s the most amusing thing ever.
“No,” I argue. “He was pointing it at his little fan club.”
The group of girls is all swooning over him and going on and on about how hot he is. I want to shove a honey roll in all their mouths and shut them up.
“He definitely d—” Kamden chimes in before Aolyn slaps him playfully on the chest. “Ouch,” he mutters.
“I’m sure he was just pointing to the crowd in general,” Aolyn supplies.
“Yeah, right,” Tate mutters, dodging my glare.
I gather my things and start to follow the crowd down the steps of the arena finding myself biting my lip, lost in thought about Cole.
I can’t get the picture of him bleeding and unconscious out of my head.
Today’s game was a whirlwind of emotions, and I felt like I was holding my breath for what seemed like an eternity, only to burst into cheers alongside the crowd during the most nail-biting moments.
Each time Anders and Trysten took a hit or executed a tackle, I winced, my stomach churning. I silently offered prayers on their behalf, though I’m not sure Astor and Calia would care to listen.
As we navigate the mass of spectators leaving the arena, I tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. I shift my cloak from one arm to the other and link my free arm with Ciara’s, laying my head on her shoulder as we continue toward the gates.
“Raea,” Trysten calls out, his voice laced with urgency and desperation as he weaves through a crowd all singing his praises.
He’s still caked with mud and splattered in blood.
I pause and wait for him to reach me. The crowd continues to chant his name, offering praise as he rushes by, but he seems completely oblivious.
“The healer is asking for you. I need you to come with me.”
My face scrunches in confusion, but I nod and follow, quickly saying goodbye to my friends before following Trysten.
He doesn’t spare a glance or provide any further explanation, leading me down the worn stone steps into the team area.
The hallway branches out in front of us: the right leads to the locker rooms and the left toward the arena.
As I follow Trysten through the door into the team box, I’m greeted by a sight that makes my heart sink.
Several Drithm team members are strewn about the private room, each nursing various injuries.
A few faces are twisted in pain. Trysten disappears into a small door at the far side of the room, and I hesitate, feeling like an intruder.
“Princess Raea,” the elderly healer greets me.
He’s the best the school has to offer, possibly the best on the whole planet.
Cole lies unconscious on the table, his face pale but free of blood, a bandage wrapped around his head looking like it could rip open at any moment.
Anders stands on the opposite side, deep in conversation with someone on his Prism.
Another healer stands near Cole’s head, monitoring the wound with a wand that displays the thickness of the tissue and swelling on her tablet.
This might be the first time I’ve ever seen Anders rattled; his usual calm composure has shattered.
He’s always so strong, collected, and…arrogant.
None of those words fit the description of the man pacing in front of me, running a hand through his matted, wet hair, covered in mud, with panic-stricken eyes that seem to swirl with silver.
When his gaze meets mine, a cloud of light surrounds me, and I find myself attempting to shrink into the shadows.
“I was wondering if you could call your mother?” the healer asks, grabbing my attention.
“My mother?” I’m unsure if I heard him correctly.
“Yes,” the healer confirms. “She has a rare plant in her garden that only grows on Kyrr. Our stores have been depleted, and, well, it might be the only thing that helps Cole regain consciousness. He hit his head at just the right angle, and his brain is swelling. The plant is known for reducing swelling and mending serious injuries.” He continues, letting me know Cole isn’t stable enough to be moved to the main Healer’s Center, so she’ll need to bring it here.
A wave of nausea slams into my stomach as the reality of the situation sinks in. I don’t ask what happens if he doesn’t wake. I had no idea he hit his head that hard. I’d been too focused on the fact that he disappeared into the water.
Swallowing hard, I nod and pull out my Prism with shaky hands.
The room is already cramped, and with the four extra bodies, there’s no such thing as privacy.
I make myself as small as possible in the corner as I call my mother.
Thanks to recent advancements in satellite links, the call connects in just a few rings.
“Mother, we need your help.”
Getting a royal visit to the academy is rare.
Getting two royal visits on the same day is unheard of.
I make my way over to the Administration Building, where my parents’ transport is set to land any minute now, with my mother and the plant in tow.
Queen Priana is also expected to land within the hour.
I stand off to the side of the launch pad as our transport enters Baedyn’s atmosphere.
The air around me charges with an energy I’ve come to know as Anders.
I turn to see him stalking toward me, still covered in blood, sweat, and a thick layer of mud from the game.
His cheek and eye are healed, and I can’t seem to find any lingering injuries.
Despite it all, he looks handsome, just a bit more rugged than the polished prince I’m used to seeing.
“Hey,” I manage to say, a little breathless. “I thought you were staying with Cole?”
He steps closer, towering over me. I catch his gaze and notice the swirling in his eyes has started again. For a fleeting moment, fear flickers across his features before being masked behind a stoic expression. I don’t know why it bugs me so much that he’s unwilling to be open with me.
“I’ll be bringing the plant back. I need to get it to the healers as soon as possible.
The longer the swelling persists, the more damage he’ll suffer.
” My heart sinks. They’ve had enough heartache in their family.
I reach out, wrapping my hand around his forearm, wanting to comfort him.
The moment our skin touches, a spark of energy surges between us, leaving me breathless.
It was an unconscious move, driven by instinct rather than intention.
I find myself leaning into him as my body adjusts to his.
The well within me fills as my soul settles, and feelings of rightness and longing flood the space between us.
I gasp when Anders’ hand wraps around my hip, molding perfectly and tugging me closer until our bodies are nearly flush. My body instantly heats. I know Anders can tell because he flips his hand to my head, checking my temperature before dismissing it.
“I’m sorry,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper as I wrestle to suppress my emotions. “For your brother.” He nods solemnly, his other hand brushing down my arm, igniting a flurry of goosebumps across my body.
“You’re hot,” he states. Not a question. It’s my turn to nod in response. He looks like he’s about to pull me closer, but then glances down at his muddy uniform and my gown, and clearly thinks better of it. I’m reluctant to admit that I wouldn’t have fought him, even if it destroyed my outfit.
The muffled roar of thrusters catches my attention as the transport begins its descent.
I withdraw my hand from his arm, tucking it awkwardly against my side.
His brow furrows slightly, and then he releases me, stepping back as if to give me space.
I hold his gaze a moment longer, hoping to convey the confusing mix of emotions, but Anders shifts his gaze to the transport.